What all the male juveniles had in common, it emerged, was that they were close cronies of Tiberius.

"Tiberius?" asked I, like a wide-eyed novice.

"Oh you must know Tiberius!"

"I'm afraid I don't have that honor. Tiberius who?"

"Tiberius Quinctius Quadratus," stated Marius Optatus suddenly. "In my house he has one or two less polite names."

"Your ex-landlord's son?"

"Our admired new quaestor, Falco."

His intervention had darkened the tone of the conversation. He looked as if he wanted to cause trouble. Aelia Annaea tried to soften the atmosphere: "Well, what can one say about Tiberius, except that he is charming?"

Helena said quietly, "Don't you just hate charming men? I always think charm is a certain clue to a man you shouldn't trust."

"This one is also extremely good-looking," I supplied. "If he's the hero I saw the other night collecting you from your father's house, Aelia Annaea?" She acknowledged it.

"Oh he has everything!" muttered Optatus jealously. "A distinguished father in a prominent position, a winning way, political promise, and the good opinion of everyone he comes into contact with." I saw young Claudia compress her lips slightly. She was embarrassed by his anger; her friend merely looked resigned.

I pretended to know nothing about him. "Is this paragon new to the area?"

"The family's Roman of course," Optatus answered bitterly. "But we know him well already. The Quinctii have large tracts of land. Quadratus has spent time in the district before, and we'll be seeing even more of him now he holds his official post."

I beamed at the two young ladies. "I take it he's related to Quinctius Attractus, the senator your father and grandfather stayed with in Rome just recently?" This time even Claudia had the sense merely to answer with a vague nod and smile. If they knew the visit to Rome was significant, somebody seemed to have told them not to discuss it with me. "I met Attractus myself. What a coincidence."

"You'll meet his son too," growled Optatus. "Don't worry about missing that treat, Marcus Didius. He's everywhere, is Tiberius." The two young ladies had fallen silent; fending off difficulties with Optatus had now gone beyond their control.

"I heard he was off hunting," I said.

"He's hanging around Corduba enjoying himself," replied Marius. "I heard the proconsul told him he wasn't to show his face in the office any more than strictly necessary."

He was wanting to argue with somebody, so I gave him his money's worth: "I reckon you're being hard on the new quaestor. From the glimpse I had, he seemed a gifted lad."

"Oh he's wonderful," breathed Claudia.

"Young lady, do I detect a blush?" I quipped. She obliged me, though it earned me a black look from Helena, who had already decided to support a romance for Optatus with Claudia. I refused to take the hint from my beloved, and carried on, "Claudia Rufina, your grandparents were telling me their plans for your brother's career—Rome, and so forth. They must have high hopes for you too. Does that include a handsome dowry to share with some promising star?"

This time Helena actually kicked me. Too late. While she squinted a reminder about Marius Optatus harboring a tenderness for Claudia, his expression remained decidedly neutral. But a sudden frosty tension told me three different women were cursing me and wondering how to be kind to him.

Claudia, the least adept, answered my question in her usual serious and strictly accurate way: "My grandfather has not discussed anything with me—" It sounded as though Licinius Rufius had actually told her it was too soon for public comment.

Helena Justina leaned forward and tapped my wrist with the herbal tea strainer. "Marriage isn't everything, Marcus!" She turned to Aelia Annaea. "I remember when my former husband first asked for me. I was young; I thought it was my duty to accept him. But I can recall feeling very angry that he had placed me in the position where I felt obliged to have him just because he was the one who had asked."

"I think I understand that," Aelia Annaea responded. Then, somewhat to the surprise of both Helena and me, she mentioned that she had been married herself, then after three years and no children she had been very recently widowed. Something in her tone implied she had no plans to repeat the experience.

"Was your marriage happy?" Helena asked in her forthright way.

"I had nothing to complain about."

"That sounds rather qualified."

"Well I could never in conscience have requested a divorce."

"And yet?" asked Helena, smiling.

"And yet, Helena!" Aelia Annaea had probably not talked like this before. We watched the young widow surprising herself: "To be honest, when my husband died I felt I had been given another chance in life." Her eyes sparkled wickedly. "I do enjoy myself now. A widow has a different status. For a year at least, I shall have a certain independence—" She stopped, as if we might disapprove of what she was saying.

"Why only a year?" Helena growled.

Aelia looked rueful. "That's about as long as a woman with a fortune can expect to hold out against the hordes of people who want to suggest ways she can invest it with them!"

Claudia Rufina certainly looked shocked now. Helena turned to her kindly: "Don't listen to us crabby things! You should just try to feel sure that you share common bonds with your husband."

"Love?" asked Claudia, rather defiantly.

Helena laughed. "Well, that might be stretching it."

"Love is a luxury!" I joined in the teasing. "But you don't need to demand anything excessive—a shared fondness for chariot races, or a keen interest in sheep-breeding can be a wonderful basis for at least four or five years together."

Torn between Helena's advice and my flippancy, Claudia looked puzzled. I noticed Marius Optatus had been listening to all this and apparently watching both girls with curious interest. Apart from his one brief outburst he had said hardly anything, yet seemed quite content to sit here as one of the party.

I said gently to our two visitors, "Your friend Tiberius sounds fascinating. I think I'd like to meet this young man!"

They agreed that I must do so, then with one accord they jumped up from their seats and decided that they really had to leave.

I stayed behind alone while they were being seen off. I wanted to think about the "strange incident" when an old biddy (or a young dancer, well disguised?) had tried to talk to Claudia's grandfather.

THIRTY-THREE

Optatus tried to vanish for the rest of the afternoon. I had obviously upset him somehow, but he was useless as a sulker: he had the kind of stubborn nature that refused to let him miss his meals. At dinner he was there again, a silent presence. Helena and I talked to Marmarides our driver about going into Corduba next day. We let Optatus work his way through half a loaf of farm-baked bread, a bowl of preserved olive salad and some smoked sausage from the hanging rack above the hearth. Then he drank a whole jug of water from the dolium, and sat and picked his teeth.

Helena moved away from the bench at the table, needing space for two. With a slight sigh she eased herself into a chair near the hot water cauldron on the cooking bench. I put one leg up on the bench, twisting to look at our friend. I was still eating; I had more

appetite than him.

"Something struck me today," Helena put in from her chair beside the cooking bench. "Those two young women called the Quinctius son charming. They were not just saying it because he had flirted with them prettily; they meant that everybody thinks he is wonderful."

"Everyone except you," I suggested to Marius Optatus. I would be the second exception, if I came up with my usual reaction to jumped-up lads in administrative posts.